


A Study In Green

by sarcastiel



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastiel/pseuds/sarcastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes home to find Sherlock in yet another compromising situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study In Green

Sherlock sighed, opening his eyes as he exhaled. John would be home in a few moments, but Sherlock wasn’t concerned. He had climbed through the window in John’s room, onto the fire escape, properly equipped with the essentials.

  
He had acquired a quarter ounce of marijuana and a pack of cigarettes whilst John was back at St. Bart’s; being careful not to give into the temptation to ask Raz for his usual.

  
Hands full, he ventured up the stairs to John’s room and onto the fire escape. It was a warm, yet cloudy day in London. He was quite content with the days current weather, not that it really mattered to him.

  
Sherlock elegantly sat down, resting his back against the bars and crossing his legs. He nestled the bong between his thighs, careful not to spill the water.

  
Retrieving the small bag from his pocket, he opened it and lifted the piece from the bong. With quick precision, Sherlock packed the piece and placed it in its original position. He took the match box he had rested beside him and struck a match gracefully.

  
He rested the flame against the piece, rested his mouth against the top of the contraption and inhaled. Letting the smoke fill his lungs, he lifted his head. He closed his eyes, feeling the sweet smoke sojourn his lungs. Feeling satisfied, he finally exhaled, lifting his eyelids in the process.

  
Sherlock’s head snapped up at the sound of the door to the flat closing.

  
“Sherlock!” John. Obviously.

  
Unalarmed, Sherlock stayed where he was as he heard John make his way up the stairs to his own room.

  
“Sherlock?”

  
“The fire escape, John.” Sherlock answered calmly.

  
“What the- Sherlock. What the hell are you doing?” John catechized.

  
Sherlock gestured to his surroundings, “Make a deduction,” He sneered.

  
John scrubbed at his face, “You were doing so well…” He murmured.

  
“Oh please, John its only marijuana. I can assure you, children participate in such activities more than I do and are left completely unharmed. Besides, I was bored.”

  
John closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I’m going downstairs to make tea. I want this gone by the time I’m back.”

  
“Why don’t you join me?” Sherlock inquired.

  
“What?”

  
“Well, it’s obvious you’ve had a long day, if the bags under your eyes are anything to go by. Sit down, relax. Don’t attempt to deny that you’ve never ‘smoked a few’ in the past. I am quite familiar with the origin of the word hash, originating from the word assassin, army doctor. So please, do yourself a favour; sit down, take a hit and relax.”

  
John appeared to be at a loss for words as he slowly sat, surveying the look Sherlock gave him, refusing to break eye contact.

  
Without a word, Sherlock passed the bong carefully to John, watching as he took it hesitantly. Sherlock struck the match gracefully and held the flame to the herb, watching it fester and burn. John looked down as he approached the mouth part. Sherlock watched with great fascination as John easily inhaled the smoke from the chamber, lifting the gas from the contraption to his lips.

  
John lifted his head, making no eye contact with Sherlock whatsoever as he slowly exhaled.

  
He turned to Sherlock, giving him a ‘are-you-satisfied’ look. Sherlock nodded, as John passed the bong back to him.

  
“Well?” Sherlock inquired as he cleaned the bowl, ready to pack it once more.

  
“Definitely haven’t done that in a while.” John chortled.

  
“Well you certainly aren’t a novice,” Sherlock grinned, busying himself with packing the bowl.

  
“Shut up,” John joked, a smile lingering on his lips as he watched Sherlock masterfully prepare for the next hit.

  
Sherlock placed the bowl back in and struck a match another time, holding the flame and masterfully taking another hit.

 

  
He passed the bong to John before exhaling an opaque cloud of smoke.

The army doctor reached for the matches by Sherlock’s thigh and clumsily struck a match, holding the flame to the drug. He took a hit and passed it back to his flatmate.

  
“How do you feel?” Sherlock inquired quirking up the corner of his mouth.

  
“Good. I’m glad you asked me to join you; haven’t done this in ages.” John exhaled.

  
Sherlock nodded, “Tea then?”

  
John smiled and got up, lending a hand to Sherlock. Tentatively, he took it, bong in the other hand.

  
When they got downstairs, John headed towards the kitchen whilst Sherlock put the things away. He came back in to find John with two mugs.

  
Sherlock to a small taste of his tea, commenting on how perfectly made it was. They both made their way to the parlor, sitting in the appropriate chairs. John reached beside him, taking a copy of some unintelligent prattle as Sherlock merely sat fingers steepled to his chin in thought. They were both content with letting the peaceful silence stir between them.

**Author's Note:**

> The word hash originates from the word assassin. In the Middle East, assassins would smoke hashish so they wouldn't feel immense pain when fighting enemy soldiers in battle.
> 
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated (and quite frankly, exciting to receive) so please dont hesitate to let me know what you think.


End file.
